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Monday, August 3, 2015

More than 20 authors will be sharing
their best and worst pick-up lines during this EPIC eReader Giveaway!
Win dozens of prizes, including swag packs, print or eBooks, gift
cards, tote, posters, themed prizes, etc...and of course, a grand
prize of four (4) eReaders!

Win one of four (4)
eReaders including:

Two 7” Kindle Fire
Tablets

One Kindle Paperwhite

One Kindle Touchscreen

+ tons of runner-up
prizes

About Veronica
Forand

Veronica Forand is an attorney and an award-winning writer of
romantic suspense. She's lived in Boston, London, Paris, Geneva, and
Washington, DC and currently resides near Philadelphia. An avid
traveler, she loves to roam across continents with her husband and
kids in pursuit of skiing, scuba diving, and finding the perfect
piece of chocolate.

For news and updates on releases, as well as fun excerpts and
exclusive stories, sign up for her newsletter: Veronica’s
Newsletter

Samantha Ann King

Thanks for
hosting me today and for participating in the Summer eReader
Giveaway. I’m looking forward to chatting with everyone about the
best and worst pickup lines they’ve heard…or used! Especially
since I don’t have much experience with them. It’s true. I can
only remember one from all my years of dating. I don’t know what
that says about me. That I led a sheltered life? That no one wanted
to pick me up? That my memory sucks?

My heroes don’t
use pickup lines, either. They tend to have a friendship with the
heroines before they fall in love, or they’re thrown together by
circumstance.

But back to my
one and only experience with the pickup line.

Imagine a bar.
It’s in a college town, so it’s crowded with students. Dancing.
Drinking. Shouting above the pulsing, pounding bass of the sound
system.

I’m standing at
a table, taking a break from the dance floor with my drink of choice,
a G&T. Don’t ask what kind of gin. I wasn’t particular back
then, couldn’t afford to be. Probably couldn’t afford to be
drinking. But it was Saturday night.

A guy—dark
curly hair, dark eyes, a little older—asks me to dance with him.
And since that’s why I’m there…

When we return to
the table, he raises his voice above the music. “I wrote a song
about you.”

I laugh. “Yeah.
Right.”

“I’m a
musician. I’m in a band. Used to play with (insert your favorite
rock musician here, because for the life of me I can’t remember the
artist.).”

“Sing it for
me,” I say.

“Too loud.”

We talk. Dance a
little more. He walks me to my car.

“Sing it for
me.”

“Not now. Let’s
go to dinner tomorrow. I’ll bring my guitar.”

I say, “Okay.”
(In my defense, I was young and naïve. Besides, I really wanted to
believe he’d written a song about me. I mean, how cool would that
be?!)

At dinner we
talk. He and the waiter compare notes on how to cook baked potatoes.
(I know. Weird, right?)

When he takes me
home, I say, “Sing me the song.”

“I forgot my
guitar. Next weekend.” (I wasn’t that naïve or that
desperate for a song of my own!)

Unfortunately, I
can’t come up with an excuse quickly enough. I’ve never been fast
on my feet, literally or figuratively. We make another date. A messy
cold causes me to cancel the day of. (The only time I’ve
been thankful for a cold.)

I’m sprawled on
the nubby plaid couch in my apartment. Red, runny nose. A box of
tissues clamped in one hand and an overflowing trash can within reach
of the other.

There’s a knock
on the door. My roommate answers.

It’s him. “You
really are sick.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I thought you
were lying.”

Such a charmer. I
never heard from him again, and I never got to hear “my” song. I
wasn’t crushed.

Sooo, “I wrote
a song about you.” Memorable? Yes. It’s the only line I remember
a guy using on me. (Probably because it was the only line a
guy ever used on me.) Best or worst? I’ll let you decide.

I’d love to
hear your best or worst pickup line. Share it here, and you could win
one of four Kindles. In the meantime, if you’d like to see how a
real man picks up a woman, check out Sharing
Hailey, the first book in my Lovers
and Friends series. No pickup line needed.

Sharing Hailey
Blurb

Hailey Anderson's
deep, dark secret? She's been madly in lust with her overprotective
brother's two best friends for years. Gorgeous woodworking artist
Mark Allen and sexy doctor Tony Adamo have no idea they star in her
fantasies every night.

After a nasty
breakup with her abusive boyfriend, Hailey's looking for a little
distance. Headed for a two-week Hawaiian vacation with her brother
and his hot friends, Hailey can't wait to feast her eyes on Mark's
and Tony's rock-hard, ocean-slick bodies. Even if she can't touch.

But instead of
treating her like their little sister, Mark and Tony have a
surprising proposition: a monogamous ménage à trois. The three of
them—and no one else. Both men want Hailey and have agreed to share
her. The red-hot reality is even better than the forbidden fantasy.
Until Hailey's ex threatens their newfound happiness…

USA Today
bestselling author Samantha Ann King was born and raised in Houston,
Texas. After receiving her BBA in Finance from Texas A&M
University and marrying her high school crush (notice she didn't say
sweetheart), Samantha relinquished her "native Texan"
status and moved to Baton Rouge. She has called Albuquerque, New
Mexico home since 1985. The mother of three has volunteered in the
community as an advocate for children's issues ranging from education
to healthcare. In 2010, as her nest started to empty, she began
writing erotic romance. Thanks to her win in Passionate Ink's Stroke
of Midnight Contest, Samantha signed her first publishing contract in
2011. Her first book was nominated for RT’s 2012 Reviewers’
Choice Award.

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